Nick smacked his palm against his forehead. “Dang it! That would have been a much smoother move.” He looked back at the door. “Is it too late for me to run out and get some?”
Harlow playfully swatted at Nick’s chest. “That’s not necessary, but it’s a sweet thought. The flowers are stunning, and they’ll really brighten up the place. My office is a bit on the drab side.” Harlow had to remember to bring some decorations in to jazz up the place. She laid the flowers down on the counter and turned back to Nick. Harlow sensed he was itching to tell her something.
“Well, I came here to say I was out of line last night. You got the brunt of my anger, and I’m really sorry. That was pretty messed up.” He crossed his arms around his chest and leaned back against a counter. “All this time I convinced myself that I was fine because I’d managed to make it past the grief stages. But learning that Baker was released early from prison, then seeing him handing Halloween candy to my son—” He let out a frustrated sound. “Last night gave me a lot of time to mull things over. I may have grieved my wife’s death, but the way she died…the way she was taken from us…I’m still not over it. But I want to be.”
Harlow got it. Nick’s feelings mirrored her own. The past still had a grip on her, even though she yearned to move forward. Just because a person wanted to be over something, it didn’t mean they were. Wasn’t that her story?
“I know you do, Nick. And I totally understand why you were so upset last night. It must’ve felt like a violation to see him living in your community and being so close to Miles.” Harlow shuddered. She was even more impressed that Nick hadn’t confronted Baker. Walking away had probably cost him every ounce of restraint he possessed.
Nick moved toward her. “You do understand. I can see it in your eyes. I was wrong to shut you down last night. Want to tell me what’s going on with you?” he asked, reaching out to touch her forehead. “These worry lines must have a story behind them.”
“That’s a story for another time, Nick. I’ve got to get back to work.” For once Harlow wanted to be open with someone, to share her tangled past and peel back her own layers. Doing so would be scary, but maybe they could both help each other heal. Nick had opened up to her about Frank Baker, exposing all of his hurt and pain about the deadly crash. He was inspiring her to be more transparent and to unpack some of her own emotional baggage. No one had ever made her feel this way before.
“Okay, Harlow, but I still want to make you dinner. Guest’s choice,” Nick said. “Whatever you want. Thai. Italian. Soul food.”
“After that meal you cooked at my place, I wouldn’t miss out on another chance to sample your culinary genius. Whatever you make will be fine,” Harlow said, flattered by the invitation. “Surprise me.” A part of her had worried that their budding relationship would crack under the strain of last night. She should have known better. Nick was a good person who didn’t mind admitting his mistakes. She could learn a thing or two from him.
Nick dipped his head down and pressed a swift kiss on her lips. Harlow reached up and smoothed her hand across his cheek, making contact with slight stubble as she did so. A woodsy masculine scent rose to her nostrils. All of her senses were on fire.
“I’m taking that as a challenge,” Nick said as the kiss ended and they pulled apart. “I’ll be in touch,” he said before opening the door and striding down the hall and away from her.
Harlow touched her lips. They were still blazing from the kiss they’d just shared. Nick always managed to affect her equilibrium in the most intense way. She took a few moments to collect herself before going out front to call in her next client. This was what it felt like to be swept off one’s feet. Nick had skills! She had to remind herself that it wasn’t part of the plan to fall for Nick. Doing so might mess up her agenda—to do her time in Mistletoe, pay off her loans, and then get out of Dodge. Falling in love wasn’t an option.
Chapter Thirteen
It was a beautiful fall day for exploring Mistletoe, Harlow realized as she cruised along the back roads to her destination. For years she had loved antiquing and finding vintage items. She had acquired quite a collection of jewelry, clothing, and small furniture pieces. Whitney had told her about this shop called Something Old on the Post Road, which was located about twenty minutes from her lake house. Harlow lowered the windows and cranked up the radio as the sunlight caressed her face.
Her GPS let her know she was approaching the destination on her left. Harlow scanned the area, immediately spotting a white farmhouse with a black-and-white sign announcing the business. A few doors down was a restaurant, a gallery, and a farmers’ market.
“Sweet,” Harlow murmured to herself as she stepped out of her car and headed toward the vintage shop. Although it was a gorgeous day, there was a brisk wind that required the use of a denim jacket. As she stepped onto the wraparound porch, Harlow paused to admire the decor. Tinkling wind chimes hung from the rafters. Colorful Adirondack chairs decorated the space along with flowers in hanging pots. Harlow felt as if she had traveled back in time as she headed inside.
“Good morning,” a robust voice called out. Within seconds an older woman with silver hair stepped forward. “Welcome to Something Old. I’m Agatha and this is my place.” She stuck out her hand for Harlow to shake.
“Hi, Agatha. Nice to meet you. I’m Harlow,” she said, sliding her hand into Agatha’s.
Agatha’s smile made it all the way to her sky-blue eyes. “The new vet in town, I presume,” Agatha drawled. “A lot younger and prettier than I imagined,” she said with a chuckle.
“How do you know who I am?” Harlow asked. She could feel her eyes widening in surprise. Small towns really did have big ears.
“I’ve lived in Mistletoe all my life, Harlow. Not much gets past me,” Agatha said with a cackle. All of a sudden, Harlow felt movement against her leg. When she looked down, she saw an alabaster-white cat grazing against her and emitting loud meowing sounds.
“That’s Sheba,” Agatha said, bending over and scooping up the Siamese cat. “My pretty baby. We’ve been together for ten years and counting.”
“Hello, Sheba,” Harlow cooed. “Aren’t you a beauty?” Harlow peered into the cat’s face, immediately noticing a red appearance to Sheba’s eyes. She looked over at Agatha. “Does Sheba visit Paws regularly?”
“She hasn’t been to the clinic for a while, if I’m being honest. Why? Is something wrong?” Agatha asked, sounding panicked.
“Not necessarily, but she does have a reddish appearance to her eyes, which should be checked out by professionals.” Harlow could see Agatha’s distress, so she wasn’t going to tell her it could be glaucoma or tumors. Tests would have to be run, as well as a thorough exam, in order to make a diagnosis.
“I’ll make an appointment right away. May I ask for you?” Her eyes were wide.
Harlow patted her shoulder. “Of course you can. I’d be honored,” Harlow said. “I’ll take good care of Sheba.”
“I know you will, Harlow. I have a very good feeling about you.” Agatha waved her hand around the shop. “Look around to your heart’s content,” Agatha said. “If you have any questions, I’ll be at the front desk.”
“Will do,” Harlow said as she began to putter around the establishment. Whimsical items were in abundance—rhinestone-encrusted jewelry boxes, jazz-era clothing items, fine china, and classic movie posters. For the better part of an hour Harlow explored every nook and cranny of the shop. By the time she checked out, she’d found a pearl necklace, a rose-printed duvet, a pair of cowgirl boots, a red leather journal, and a stack of Nancy Drew books.
“Here you go,” Agatha said, handing her a large bag filled with her items after Harlow had paid for them. “Don’t forget to visit the farmers’ market next door. Vic, the man who runs it, is my husband.” She winked at Harlow. “We never got hitched, but we’ve been together for forty years the last time I checked.”
